


Why I Was Late To Class

by thegrantfinale123



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bathrooms, Essays, Gen, High School, M/M, Masturbation, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 14:51:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/736917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrantfinale123/pseuds/thegrantfinale123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joey Racio is always late to class. As a sophomore he should know better, but he continues to walk in ten minutes late to class with a look of regret mixed with contentment on his face. His young, recently-graduated English teacher Mr. Bruner decides to make Joey write an essay explaining why he constantly comes late. Mr. Bruner is surprised by the results he receives. Essay format. First person, told by Joey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why I Was Late To Class

Joey Racio

Mr. Bruner

English 10

November 15, 2012

 

Why I Was Late To Class

 

Us sophomores have been at this school for two years now; it should not be new information to us to be on time to class. I have been tardy to the young and handsome Mr. Bruner’s (let the brown-nosing begin) 10th Grade English class 15 times this semester, and the semester has merely just begun. This essay depicts my reasoning behind being late to class. The reason is that I have been in the bathroom. Now, I could make up some lame excuse like I have IBS or something like that, but my older brother told me that lying is never a good way to go, especially to a teacher, so I will tell you the truth.

Since before my freshman year began, a little over a year ago, I’ve always known that I was different from other guys. Sure, I enjoyed smacking a baseball or kicking a soccer ball, and playing Call of Duty, but there was always something that separated me from my other male friends: we never could talk about girls. I’ve heard other guys talking about the hot chicks they like in the locker, and meanwhile, I’ve been staring at them shirtless for the past five minutes, trying to conceal the tent pitched in my basketball shorts.

See, I have this general biological clock that says that at approximately 10:30 am every day (the period between third and fourth hour), I have to pee. Ergo, after history class, I make my way to the bathroom to relieve myself. Usually I’m in and out within a minute or so, but sometimes, he walks in. Ian Jacobson, varsity baseball pitcher, star of every game. I’ve had a crush on him since I saw him my freshman year. I’ve gone to every single one of his games since then, staring at his toned arms, his slender chest, his tight derriere, and of course, the cup bulge he sports every game; and while all of those were great, I just couldn’t get over the fact of how adorable his face was. Chiseled chin with a bit of brown stubble and a head of short brown hair that looks so soft your fingers feel obligated to run through it, and those gorgeous, bright blue eyes that sparkle in the sunlight. Needless to say, I was head over heels. But I knew I’d never have a chance with him; he was two years older than me, and obviously straight, whereas I was still so deep in the closet I struck Narnia. Even if he was gay, which wasn’t likely, there was no way he’d be interested in me, abnormally tall and skinny, with braces and dark brown hair only short enough to spike it up every now and then, and awkward tan lines from playing baseball in a wifebeater and flip flops.

That’s why I take what I can get, and every now and then when Ian walks up to the urinal adjacent mine, I can’t help but sneak a peek. I’d debated whether or not to go into detail about this in the essay, but my brother also said that withholding information is also a form of lying, so bear with me. It was beautiful, absolutely beautiful---long and thick with a gorgeous pink head with a tasteful lack of foreskin. I had to hide my own 5-inch member as it boned up in mere seconds, hoping to God he didn’t see it, but also kind of wishing he was looking. Out of the corner of my eye, I hungrily watched him do his business, the golden nectar flowing out so effortlessly. Occasionally he would let out a sigh or a deep breath, and I loved the way his face slowly relaxed, his eyes started to close and his head tilt back, the obvious relief flooding his face, as if he had been holding it in forever.

As he peed, I slowly stroked my own pecker, pushing back the foreskin back to reveal my head, still a bit damp with my unfinished business. Even long after Ian had finished, packed up, and left, I was still going. I tried to hide the ecstasy on my face as ever stroke sent ripples of pleasure through my entire body. I hoped that nobody would realize what I was doing. Multiple other guys would walk up to the urinal, and I’d catch a peek at them, too, but none were ever as satisfying as Ian’s. Whenever I was alone in the bathroom, I would release the tension in my stance and stop trying to hide my behavior, even letting out a moan or two every now and then. This would go on for what seemed like forever, but in reality was only a few minutes. I would hear the bell, cursing that I was late for English again, but it wasn’t enough to stop. I was in too deep already, and I couldn’t help myself but bring myself closer and closer to my climax. I tried to go as fast as I could; really, I did. I didn’t want to get caught, and the best way to avoid getting caught would be to finish as quickly as I could, but sometimes it seemed to drag on and on. My breath would get heavy, and eventually I would release my seed all over the school’s property.

My knees growing weak, I would take in a few deep breaths as the excitement receded, and my member shrank to its flaccid state. Wiping the result off my hands onto the urinal wall, I flush the evidence and wash the stickiness of my hands before exiting the restroom. And that is why I’m always late to class.

****

  
_A+ Good writing, Joey. Come see me after class and we’ll discuss this further. ;)_   


 


End file.
